Prone
by Sveinity
Summary: [AU DH] Who would have ever thought that finding sanctuary could be so simple, especially at the hands of an enemy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

**Disclaimer:** As far as I know, my name is not J.K. Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter: books, movies, or otherwise. But if I did... Oh, the possibilities.

**Pairings: **Draco/Harry

**Author Warning:** Thisis the first Harry Potter fic. that I have actually written and posted. I might decide to end it where it ends or I might decide to continue on. I have some ideas, but I have other fics. that need finishing and too little time. I'll try, especially if this gets good reviews. hinthint

**Story Warning: **Hinting at abuse, mild gay thematic ideas, hurt/comfort, a really mean Snape, really expensive cars, OOC and... whatever else I'm forgetting to mention.**  
**

**Summary: AU **Who would have ever thought that finding sanctuary could be so simple, especially when that sanctuary comes from the help of an enemy.

* * *

My heart was racing, racing, racing. I couldn't breathe in a single breath. You'd think that after all the scary movies and haunted houses I had seen that I, Draco Malfoy, would be immune to the sight before me… Except this was different; this was real. 

The high off sugar-packed candy and loud, pulsing music vanished, every witty remark I had been about to say drying in my throat. Only silence remained to scream in my face, demanding I move; do _something_ beside just stand there in my confusion and uncertainty.

A pair of the most startlingly emerald green eyes stared owlishly up at me and, suddenly, everything was wrong in the world. I couldn't believe how strongly I was being affected; how murderously furious I'd become at the sight of a split lip and purpling jaw, messy hair matted with blood. On Harry Potter, no less; an enemy, a rival, someone I had spent many years sharing mutual hate with. _That_ Harry Potter…

And "that" was all it took for me to bolt into action. In seconds I was kneeling on the ground in front of the last person anyone on Earth would be expecting me to help. Harry's posture was slumped, a far cry from his usual stubbornly defiant appearance. His back was leaning haphazardly against my car, looking as if a simple breeze might tip him over.

"Oi," I called hesitantly, "Potter, you alright?"

But of course he wasn't, I berated myself. Such an obvious question had no business coming out of my mouth, and it sure as hell didn't deserve an answer.

"Yeah, "Harry mumbled roughly, "'course I am."

He was a terrible liar. I knew it, he knew it; I don't even know why he bothered. The tears beginning to spill from his eyes did nothing to prove me wrong, that and he was shaking. I was torn to see him this way. Harry Potter was not supposed to be weak. He wasn't supposed to break down in front of me, looking beaten and bruised, clothing in tatters.

"I-I'm sorry," He apologized miserably, voice cracking, "I can't seem to… stop crying. I- the tears just won't… Sorry, so… sorry."

"Oh, shut it. Contrary to popular belief, I'm no idiot, nor am I heartless. Up you get," I gently helped Harry stand, all too conscious of how he swayed dangerously on his feet.

With an arm wrapped around his waist, I lead him to the passenger side of my Koenigsegg CCX. It wasn't until we were both situated comfortably inside that Harry seemed able to absorb the reality around him. He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, curling forward to rest his forehead on his knees.

"What the hell are you playing at, Malfoy? I don't need your pity."

"Feel free to get out. Don't let me hold you back."

"Fuck you," His words were empty and I merely hummed thoughtfully before starting the car, "Where are we going?"

"We, Potter? I'm taking you home. Where do you live?"

Harry didn't answer, choosing instead to stare blankly ahead out the windshield. Draco asked again as politely and with as much patience as he could possibly manage, but Harry steadfastly refused to look at him, let alone speak. Frustration rising, Draco found he couldn't understand.

"Potter, will you bloody well answer the question?"

"I…" He croaked shortly thereafter, "Please, no…"

"Uh… What?" Draco said eloquently, startled.

"Don't take me back there. Anything but that…"

"You don't want to go home," He stated flatly, "Jesus, Potter. What happened to you?"

"That's none of your damn business, Malfoy!" Harry bit out, anger flaring without warning and perhaps, just cause.

"That's where you're wrong, _Potter_. I think it is my business when I find you bruised and beaten, leaning against my car."

"You're right. I'm… sorry." He had the decency to look slightly abashed.

"You're sorry. Again."

"Yes."

They sat together in a heavy silence until Draco put the car in gear. Not a word was spoken as he drove them to the manor. Harry went back to gazing blankly out the window. It proved to be a very comfortable ride… Sort of.

Draco had parked the car into the large five-car garage, gotten out and even opened _Harry's_ door before the other realized that they had arrived. He blinked life back into his face, and hesitantly took Draco's proffered helping hand. They experienced a couple close calls when Harry's legs began to give out on him on the way to the door inside of the manor, but otherwise Draco felt that they were doing well until Harry had some sort of dizzy spell and passed out cold in his arms.

Draco swore quite loudly before he began yelling for some sort of assistance. However, it was not one of the maids that came to help, rather, his mother, who appeared first. Her eyes went wide in astonishment before narrowing in suspicion, lips pursing in a thin line.

"Draco Malfoy," She scolded, "What _have_ you been up to?"

"Not that it matters, nothing. I haven't done a thing."

"Then how to you explain _that_?" Mrs. Malfoy pointed to the boy in her son's arms, before she actually allowed herself a good look at him. And when she did, her eyes widened once more, "Oh, oh my."

"Yes. Yes, I _know_. _Now_ will you help me? I can hardly hold him by myself the way he is." Which was true; Harry was slipping inch by inch, supported awkwardly by Draco.

Narcissa took hold of Harry and between the two of them, the managed to get him to the living room and on the couch. Puffing elegantly, Narcissa seated herself on one of the plush armchairs, raising a quizzical brow at her son.

"Care to explain?"

"Honestly? No, but as I don't even know myself, it doesn't matter."

"Well, who is he? A _friend_?"

"Mother, this is Harry Potter." Draco said bluntly.

"W-What? The boy who always has you in such an uproar?"

"Yes, I am afraid so."

"I admit, Draco, that I am surprised. You do not know what happened to him?"

"He didn't say and I don't think it's my place to ask, given our… relationship. However, I do know that he did not wish to return home. I can only suspect that-"

"Shh." Narcissa sounded quickly, "Do not say it aloud."

"As you wish," Draco turned his attention to Harry, gently shaking him awake.

He let out a pitiful groan, mouth opened wide in a soundless yawn. His brows furrowed momentarily until his eyes peaked open slowly. For a while, Harry just lay there, staring up at the ornate ceiling. He seemed to steel himself as he turned his head to the side, instantly spotting Draco. Harry winced. Draco blinked. He was just as dumbfounded as ever.

"Bugger," He mumbled, just loud enough for Draco to hear.

"Mr. Potter," Narcissa began, "Welcome, and might I say that it's a _pleasure _to finally meet you."

"Er, thanks."

"You are quite welcome," She said graciously, ever the elegant host, "Now I must insist that you stay as long as you like and make yourself quite at home," She turned to her son, "Do not forget that your godfather is coming for dinner in about half past the hour. I am expecting him at any moment."

Draco nodded and Narcissa gave them both a kindly smile before gliding out the door.

"Um…"

"You passed out," Draco supplied, "I suspect you knocked your head against something? Mm."

"Yeah. I'd, well, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Understood," Draco gave him another once-over, "Would you like a shower, maybe some clothes?"

Harry's face flushed prettily and all he could do was nod through his embarrassment. Draco helped him up and wrapped an arm around his waist before he half-carried, half-helped Harry up the stairs and to his room. He dropped him off in his bathroom and quickly fetched some clean clothing. They were about the same size, so Harry fitting in them wasn't much of a problem. However, Draco knew that Harry also wasn't much for formal wear. So, he settled for choosing a pair of well-loved black jeans and a dark green long-sleeved turtleneck.

By the time he returned to the bathroom, Harry was already in the shower. The mirror was partially fogged as Draco glanced at himself. His hair was wind-blown and tonight's outfit was a little rumpled from transporting Harry. An inaudible sigh parted his lips.

The clothes he placed on the counter and Draco seated himself on the floor, resting his back against the door. He remained silent for a while, just listening the sound of running water and whirring fan.

"If you need anything, feel free to ask." He supplied eventually.

A yelp came from behind the shower curtain, and Draco was on his feet in moments, dashing forward to be of assistance. His face instantly flushed a deep scarlet (probably a match for Weasel's hair, he thought).

"Potter, what's the matter?" He gushed, frantically looking for anything wrong… and spotting all the bruises that marred Harry's tan, too-thin body.

Fury awoke inside him, breaking open and pouring black, murderous intentions. Needless to say, Draco had become more than a little… protective of Harry since finding him not even an hour ago. Which was severely odd, he knew… After all, how was it even _possible_ that he could be so concerned with his _enemies_ well-being? Maybe…

"I- Nothing. You just startled me. I didn't know you were in here." Harry looked about as embarrassed as Draco felt.

"So everything's okay, then?" He asked while taking a step back, desperately averting his straying eyes.

"Yeah. Wait, no. Can I have a towel?"

"Sure, sure," Draco was glad for the excuse to busy himself by fetching the desired item; anything for him to calm down. "Here. I'll just wait outside…"

And with that, Draco took his leave, breathing in deep the chill air as he collapsed back on the plush bed. His feet were left to dangle over the edge, face burrowing in some pillows. It wasn't long before Harry came out of the bathroom with a flourish of steam.

"What are you doing?" He asked in amusement.

Draco grumbled something undecipherable and then sat up. Harry froze at the serious, determined look Draco was giving him, standing stalk-still as he was approached.

"Did I do someth-" Harry began quickly; uncertainly… fearfully?

"No," Draco answered firmly, "No. You did nothing wrong. I just wish you would tell me about…" He waved one hand around frantically, searching for the right words, "Who is doing this to you, Potter?"

"Doing what?" Harry asked evasively.

"_Abusing You!_" Draco nearly shouted, hands thrown high in the air in exasperation.

"I- Malfoy… What do you even care?"

"It's your family, isn't it?" Draco continued on, "I _know_ it's your family."

"Fine. Yes, it's them. All right? It's them!"

"No, everything is not _all right_! Why haven't you done anything?"

"I can't!"

"You can't? Yes you bloody well can!"

"No, Malfoy, I can't. They are the only living family I have. Where else would I go? Get myself swept off to another family that treats me worse than I already am?"

"It could be better," Draco reasoned, "A new family wouldn't do this to you."

"You don't know that. You can't be certain. I'm seventeen. I'll be moving out in a year. Just leave it. Continue to hate and ignore me as you always have... Please…"

They were silent for a while, just looking at each other. It wasn't uncomfortable, nor was it exactly pleasant. Draco let his eyes rake over Harry; the way Draco's jeans hugged his calves and thighs, resting low on his hips, how Draco's shirt brought out the color of Harry's eyes…, the nasty colors Harry's jaw was turning and the puffiness of his bottom lip. And, somehow, during that time they grew closer… Not fighting off the magnetic attraction that had always seemed to draw them together until their noses were mere millimeters apart.

Draco could feel Harry's breath on his face, it was hot and moist and everything it should be. He could see the confusion and loneliness and vulnerability swirling through his eyes and Draco felt compelled to make it all go away.

"But… I don't…. want… to…" Draco slowly closed what little distance there was left between them with each word he whispered until his lips brushed lightly against Harry's and, finally, they pressed together in a tender kiss.

He couldn't think. Neither of them could. They acted on pure, fiery instinct. What had first begun as gentle and exploratory had morphed into something fierce and desperate. Their lips were crushed almost painfully together, all-together wet and animalistic… Yet Draco wouldn't imagine it any other way; hands moving to tangle in Harry's still-wet hair. It was slick against his fingers and angel soft. The way it smelt of Draco's very own shampoo brought out a possessive desire that Draco didn't even know he had.

And it ended all too soon, in Draco's opinion. But it couldn't be helped, what with the lack of oxygen circulating to their brains. So they broke of, both of them panting for air, foreheads pressed intimately together.

"I- What- " Harry began breathlessly, recovering first; straightening.

Draco didn't let him finish, ignoring the fact that he was scared of what Harry might say, and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

"Shh, later," Draco reassured, "We're late for dinner."

Needless to say, they _were_ indeed late for dinner. Being the teenage boys that they were, they stopped to kiss every few seconds along the way to the dining room, slowed down even more by the fact that Draco had to practically carry Harry. Having found this rather _surprising_ comfort in the other's touch and warmth, they weren't about to fight off the cravings that could stir something beyond their control.

Upon entering, Draco felt Harry stiffen. He stopped. And that is when he spotted their dinner guest. He had forgotten all about his godfather coming, so he hadn't even thought to warn Harry. He winced uncharacteristically and instantly regretted it, watching solemnly as Severus Snape's left eyebrow arch inquisitively.

"Harry, Draco, do be seated. Dinner's just been put on the table." Narcissa said in a happy flourish, "I do hope you like lasagna."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry answered softly, head bowed forward.

Draco helped him to his seat and pushed in his chair, whispering "I'm sorry" into Harry's ear before he sat in his own chair beside him. Harry nodded minutely, but no other recognition came from him as he sat as still as a statue, completely surrounded by the sort of people he usually tried to avoid… But now… what had happened between him and Draco…

Harry just couldn't think! Especially when he just _knew_ that his least favorite teacher on earth was looking at him. He could just feel the older man's silent questions buzzing through the air around them.

Soon they dished in. Narcissa carried on an abundance of pleasant chatter, engaging all of them in her talk. Harry spoke as little as was polite, eating the delicious meal slowly; a sort of excuse. He pointedly ignored Draco's worried glances that came when both his mother and godfather were too busy to notice.

If either Narcissa or Severus Snape picked up on Harry's closed-off mood or Draco's unspoken concern, neither of them showed it. However, Snape did keep an unusually keen eye on them. And by the time dinner had finished and a plat of chocolate éclairs had been placed on the table, Snape could hold back his question no longer.

"Narcissa, tonight I have found myself wondering at your choice of dinner guests."

Harry automatically dropped his fork to his plate, knowing full well the sneer that would be on the man's face without even having to look up. Draco bristled beside him, jaw clenching with unnecessary force.

"What ever do you mean?" Narcissa asked, feigning ignorance.

"I wish to know why I was not informed of the attendance of this boy," Snape answered casually, as if Harry weren't even there.

"Severus," Draco began warningly, only to be cut off by his godfather.

"_And_, why you, of all people, would be having him over for dinner and polite conversation." He finished.

Meanwhile, Harry's humiliation turned into black, crackling anger. This man kept proving again and again why he should be dead-set on hating him. And Harry did hate him. Severus Snape was nothing more than a greasy old science teacher, full of nastiness and nothing else.

"Narcissa, thank you for an excellent meal," Harry spoke as nicely as he could, pushing back in his chair and rising, fists clenched painfully tight, "Draco… I- thanks. Really, I appreciate your help… and… I'm just going to go."

Harry briskly left the room, heading straight of the front door. Draco shot his godfather a searing look before standing up and chasing after Harry. He wasn't fast enough.

Harry was already out the door, made invisible by both rain and darkness. Draco couldn't see two feet in front of himself, let alone where Harry might have gone.

"Harry!" He called hastily, hating the way the rain chilled him to the bone, "Harry, come back! It's raining!"

There was no answer.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco was numb and it wasn't because of his water-logged clothes clinging to his body. No. That wasn't why at all. 

Harry was gone. For once in their life they had gotten along and been friendly; more than friendly! But it was all ruined now. Ruined because of his own godfather's ancient grudge and hurtful words.

Harry was gone.

Draco had called for him, looked for him for a good half an hour, all to no avail. He didn't know where Harry lived, so he couldn't go there. And if he did, well, Draco knew he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from doing something he might regret (not that he actually _would _regret doing anything to those peons) because of what they did to Harry. They were nothing more than a bunch of child abusing bastards!

He slammed the front door of the Manor behind him, practically kicking off his shoes at a startled maid. Surprisingly enough, Draco could hear his mother yelling. He walked stiffly towards the noise and stopped in the doorway of the living room. His godfather sat in an armchair while Narcissa stood next to the window, her pretty face marred by anger, mouth spouting words a mile a minute. She broke off when she spotted Draco, relief clearly visible in her eyes.

"Oh, Draco. Did you find the poor boy? Were you able-"

"No." His mother made to come towards him, but stopped at the look he gave her, sighing.

"Draco, you're dripping all over the carpet. You should know better than to go out in the rain like that."

"You," Draco sneered, whipping to face his godfather, "You! What right do you have to say that to me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Get out. Just, get out. I'm tired of looking at you."

"Wha- Narcissa, you can't possibly have taught your son these horrid manners."

"I agree with my son, Severus. Please leave." Her arms were crossed over her chest, eyes glued back outside the window, staring blankly at the rain as if fell.

"Fine. Narcissa, thank you for dinner. And Draco, I'll see you in class." Severus Snape rose from his seat and exited the Manor.

Finally.

"Draco?"

"I'm going to bed. Good night, mother."

* * *

"Hey, Draco! What happened to you last night? You went to go grab the booze from your car, but you never came back." Blaise called, jogging to catch up with him from the parking lot. 

Draco slowed his walk but did not stop for his friend, hands stuffed in his uniform pockets. He shrugged his shoulders in answer, face set in his customary look of indifference.

"What's that supposed to mean? Pansy freaked on me when she went outside to find out what was taking you so long and your car was gone."

"Not my problem."

"Than what _is_ your problem?" Blaise nearly yelled in exasperation.

"Something that's none of your business. Come on, we're going to be late." Draco advised coolly.

They entered the large building at a brisk walk and stepped through their homeroom door right as the bell rang. Draco's eyes instantly locked with his Godfathers and narrowed.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, take your seats so that I might begin today's lesson."

"Yessir," They chimed in unison, Draco slipping into his customary desk without so much as another glance towards Blaise.

"Professor McGonagall's core will be joining us. I expect that you all be on your best behavior and _not_ cause any trouble. Let them start it." Snape narrowed his eyes minutely in warning,"You will be begin your senior project by pairing off to discuss your top three topics of choice- No, you may not choose your own partners. Names will be drawn once the others arrive."

Draco's heart was racing. Potter was coming. What could he say? Would Potter resent what happened last night? _Everything_ that happened last night? It had all been so spur-of-the-moment. Even_ Draco_ didn't know what to think! He'd just never seen Harry like that, all bruised and broken and undeniably attractive: his hair had been dripping, his cheeks flushed from steam, lips petal-soft and just as pink. Harry acted neither dominant nor submissive; it had been just the two of them, off in their own little world-

"Budge over."

Draco jumped, eyes widening once they landed on the glum-faced Harry Potter. He looked exactly the same as he always had (all wild-haired and rumpled), if you didn't count that nasty bruise on his jaw and slightly puffy lip. Draco felt last night's anger rebuilding. Harry definitely appeared worse off than before, especially with the dark circles under his eyes.

"Malfoy, budge over," Potter repeated, scraping a chair across the tile floor and pointedly ignoring Snapes scathing glare at the noise.

"Ah... Sorry. Here," Draco edged over to give Harry more room, steadfastly refusing the blush that was threatening to surface.

They sat there for exactly five minutes, neither moving or speaking, maybe not even _breathing_; Draco counted. And then he couldn't stand it any longer. He needed to say something, anything would do-

"What are your three top choices?"

"Dunno, really. I was thinking about doing it on a career or..." Potter ended with a noncommittal shrug of indifference.

"Anything specific?" Draco prodded.

"I've considered doing it on the war against Voldemort or the benifits of sports... Even working for the government... You?"

"Pretty much the same as you... Except my top choice is about the high standards and stereotypes that are placed on children." Draco said confidently, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

"That's rich, Malfoy, coming from you." Harry mumbled distractedly, scribbling circles all over a fresh piece of paper in one of his spiral notebooks.

"How so?" His eyes fluttered shut, his tone bland and lacking true curiosity.

"You're a walking stereotype. You can't help but flaunt your good looks and your money. You love your status."

"Oh, just like you love yours?" Draco straightened, blue-gray eyes fixed in a heated scowl, "Parentless and abused by your only living relatives."

"You know nothing about my life, Malfoy; _nothing_!" Potter hissed.

"As you know nothing about mine," He sneered back, "One would think that you'd have realized that by now, Potter."

"Look, Malfoy... I- I'm sorry. I over reacted," The other boy apologized, a strained look on his face, "I've been having a really rough time of it-"

"Apology accepted." Draco interupted.

"Er, thanks."

"Mm. So... About your choices. I think you should consider doing your senior project on something else."

"And that would be...?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Draco considered if he should actually say this or not. After all, it wasn't a pleasant subject and they'd already just finished a row - albeit it wasn't a very nasty one. But, Draco Malfoy being Draco Malfoy, he went ahead and said it anyway.

"I think that you should take my example. No one would expect you to do it on your life. At least, not on how it _really _is." Draco said quietly, respecting the fact that Harry wouldn't want others to overhear their conversation.

"What?" Harry asked slowly, as if he didn't quite understand what Draco had just said.

"Harry," He used the other's first name, knowing already that he was in for another fight, "I think that you _need_ to express your... feelings? It's not healthy to lock everything up."

"Well, _Draco,_ I don't give a bloody rip what you think!" Harry shouted, rising vulnerably from his chair and drawing the attention of every single person in the room, "Besides, how do you even know I haven't told anyone?" He hissed quietly enough for only Draco to hear.

"Of course you haven't told anyone. I'm not stupid."

"Yes you are! You're a fucking little shite who has been nothing but the pain in my arse from day one!"

"Potter!" Snape began in vain.

"Nobody asked you!" Both Harry and Draco shouted simutaneously.

"You think I can do it on something like that? That it would be fucking easy, a laugh even-" Harry continued.

"I never said that it would be easy," Draco took in a slow breath, standing up to look Harry in the eyes, "I said that you _need_ it."

"You can't know what I ne-"

"Yes, I do. I know because _I_ need to."

Silence fell over the class room as the two boys quieted. Harry stared at Draco for a long while, no longer angry. His shoulders were slumped, body shaking. Draco watched in horror as malachite eyes slowly flooded. Two arms shot out to fist in his shirt, pulling Draco to him as the tears spilt over with a racking sob.

It was so uncharacteristic, so bizarre, that Pansy Parkinson lead a round of gasps. Blaise seemed confused, less so than Ron Weasley who was looking quite green, and Hermione Granger just looked smug, almost like christmas had come early. Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were frozen and speachless because, out of all their many, _many_ years of teaching, nothing like this had ever occured. Of course, neither Draco nor Harry noticed anything around them. Not when Harry was too busy crying and Draco too busy whispering soothing nothings into his ear.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **As a reminder:

**Disclaimer:** As far as I know, my name is not J.K. Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter: books, movies, or otherwise. But if I did... Oh, the possibilities!

**Pairings: **Draco/Harry

**Author Warning:** This is the first Harry Potter fic. that I have actually written and posted. Obviously I have decided to continue - and I have some ideas - but I have other fics. that need finishing, too. I'll try to finish this as soon as possible, especially if I get good reviews. hinthint

**Story Warning: **Hinting at abuse, mild gay thematic ideas, hurt/comfort, a really mean Snape, really expensive cars, OOC and... whatever else I'm forgetting to mention.**  
**

**Summary: AU **Who would have ever thought that finding sanctuary could be so simple, especially when that sanctuary comes from the help of an enemy.

**The apology: **This chapter is move of a filler than anything. It's not very long, but not to worry! Future chapters will surpass this length!

* * *

Chapter III

"Draco Malfoy!" Pansy yelled accusingly, marching from her seat with purpose, "What is going on? What the _bloody fucking hell _do you think you are doing?"

"Yeah," Ron piped up, "Get your slimy hands off of Harry!"

"Stay out of it, Weasel. This is none of your business," Pansy demanded haughtily, leaning against the desk that Blaise was currently tapping his nails on while he waited for Pansy to finish her interrogation.

"Like hell it's not. We have just as much right as you do, don't we 'Mione?" Ron said smugly, looking at Hermione for expected support –

And only receiving laughter.

"Granger," Pansy exclaimed, "Just what are _you_ laughing at? I fail to see your humor."

"Oh," Hermione breathed, wiping tears from her eyes, "Oh, it's nothing. Really."

"'Mione… Do you know something we don't?" Ron's nose was crinkled in confusion, trying to figure out what ever it was that he had missed.

"Caught on, did you?" Draco intoned monotonously, still holding Harry to him in a tight embrace of comfort.

"Wha- Oh. Oh, no," Harry's face tinted pink and he quickly ducked his head under Draco's chin to hide it. "No, no, no… Please tell me she didn't." He mumbled.

"As interesting as it is to hear you all chat," Snape sneered, "I advise you do it elsewhere. Unless, of course, you would like detention–"

Saved by the bell; how cliché.

Harry was both relieved and disappointed to have to dislodge himself from Draco so he could collect his stuff along with everyone else. Ron ushered him out the door so fast that he wasn't given the chance to say goodbye, either… which was irritating; really irritating.

His face broke into a scowl, lips pursing in distaste.

"What's your problem?" Harry had to visibly force himself not to snap at his best friend.

"Hey, I'm not the one hugging _Malfoy_."

"Ron, shut up," Hermione intervened, eyes softening when she faced Harry, "You've finally realized, haven't you?"

Harry scuffed his foot on the ground, nodding mutely. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, back stiff. He did not want to be talking about this.

"Oh, Harry. I'm so proud of you."

"What? Why are you proud of him? What's going on?"

"Your naivety knows no bounds, Weasel," Draco answered, quietly coming up behind them, flanked by Blaise and Pansy.

"How dare you-"

"Stop it, Ron," Harry cut him off before he could start. He didn't think he could stomach another fight, "What do you want, Malfoy?" There was slight hesitation before he addressed the blond by his last name.

"Skip with me."

"What?" Each and every one of them - Pansy included - winced at her accidental high-pitched shout, "Skip with _Potter_?"

"Yes, Pansy. Have you gone deaf?" Draco wore the appropriate mock-concerned expression to match his blunt sarcasm.

"N-no! But why him? I want to know what's going on, Draco."

"Pansy, it's not really that hard to find out." Blaise commented.

"You know? Harry, Zabini knows and _I don't?_ What are you playing at?" Ron's face was beginning to turn red with anger.

Hermione placed her hand on his arm, just in case. Harry said nothing. Pansy was looking incredulous, pointing at Draco.

"You. Will. Tell. Me. NOW!" Each word was punctuated with a jab to his chest.

His eyes slid momentarily to look at Harry before focusing back on her. "No."

"Harry! Tell _me_!" Ron burst, freckles palling dramatically in contrast to the red tint of his face, "Ow, Hermione! What?"

"Ron," She scolded, "We're going to be late to class if you don't hurry up. Come on."

Hermione smiled brightly at Harry in a moment of indecision before she rolled her eyes at herself and gave him a quick hug. Then, to everyone's surprise, she tugged on Draco's shoulder so that she going fix him with a pointed look.

"One warning, one chance; Watch yourself, Malfoy," Her warning was clear, words uncharacteristically pleasant to be spoken to a former enemy.

"But… What… 'Mione, what about Harry? Stop _pulling_ me! I can walk on my own."

"Oh, stop fussing. Harry is perfectly capable of handling himself, unlike _you_," Their bickering drifted farther away as they moved down the hall before disappearing all together.

"Draco," Pansy huffed, reminding everyone that she was still present, "What has gotten into you?"

"Pansy, go to class. Take Blaise with you and bother _him_ for a change. I'll see both of you later," He took Harry's hand point-blankly in his – perhaps a subtle hint to the clueless (or, rather, the one in denial), "Zabini, Parkinson."

And they were on their way, Draco walking swiftly towards the back exit of the school. Harry could only comply silently, shuffling along awkwardly behind the clearly agitated Draco. As soon as they were jogging down the rear stair-well, Harry's curiosity got the best of him.

"Um… Where are we going?"

"I don't know yet." Draco replied immediately, glancing over his shoulder.

"You asked me to skip, but you don't know where we're going?"

"Look," Draco stopped, the doors only a few feet away, "If you're going to complain, go ahead and go to class… All I know is that – I guess I wanted to get away and I supposed you would, too."

Though he didn't say it outright, the sentiment was clear. And Harry wanted to spend time together as well; this time, with no interruptions… or, at least, the unpleasant ones. There was one he wouldn't mind so much.

A blush stained Harry's cheeks just thinking about the possibility of kissing. Ducking his head, he smiled and gave Draco's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's go."


End file.
